


Don't Think So Much

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Series: A Combination Of Skill And Luck [2]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Barest shreds of a plot, Explicit Sexual Content (duh), Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22070893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: After the rescue of Audrey Horne, Cooper continues to overthink on his involvement in her capture. Relief from his intrusive thoughts arrives in the form of one Sheriff Truman.
Relationships: Dale Cooper/Harry Truman
Series: A Combination Of Skill And Luck [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617793
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	Don't Think So Much

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Years, everyone. Have some porn.

After leaving Benjamin Horne with his money and the knowledge that his daughter is back safe in Twin Peaks, Dale retreats to a very long shower with the water as hot as he can stand. He wants to scrub this entire night clean from him, from his already overburdened conscience - he can’t describe exactly why if questioned, but he understands that this had been necessary through some shortcoming of his own. So now, he washes himself repeatedly until the bar of mild-smelling hotel soap is two-thirds its original size before finally stepping onto the mat and wrapping himself in several fluffy white towels.

He’s felt like this before. He’s done this before. The first time, he’d (apparently incorrectly) thought he’d done it to remove the chemically putrid stink of the Pittsburg hospital from his skin after several weeks and multiple surgeries to stitch his insides back together. But apparently that wasn’t quite the case, because this time there’s no hospital smell, no odor of a wound that wasn’t quite healed yet. (Wounds have a very particular smell.) In their place is sweat, both from exertion and from stress, now down the drain with significant amounts of soap.

Rubbing himself fully dry, Dale watches his reflection in the mirror over the sink, largely blurred and obscured by the condensation settled on the glass. He can’t quite pick out the scar from when he was stabbed, but his more recent injury is bright enough to be visible, the pink of a healing wound crossed with stitches that aren’t showing through the fogged surface. His first order of business is to wrap his lower torso with fresh gauze bandages before dressing in his pajamas.

A knock on the door startles him as he does the last button on his shirt, and then: “Coop, you there?”

Ah, it’s just Harry. No need to worry about the mysterious shooter returning to make another attempt on his life. Dale immediately relaxes and pads over barefoot to open it.

“Harry, is something wrong?” Dale’s concerned that Harry didn’t just call instead of coming over.

“I should ask you that,” his friend answers, taking a few steps into the room. It’s just enough that Dale can close the door again. “You still seemed pretty upset when you left, I got worried.”

Dale nods. “Your earlier comment on my tendency to overthink seems to be right on the money.”

Harry comes the rest of the way in, seating himself on the edge of Dale’s bed. He’s back in his work uniform and seems to have been on his way home before making an impulsive decision to come here and check on Dale… not that Dale minds.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’m experiencing a certain amount of stress. It’s not a new concept to me, though, and eventually I’ll cope and move past it.”

“Yeah, but are you gonna be okay _right now?_ ” Harry clarifies, obviously more concerned than he wants to let on. Dale likes this so much about Harry - he’s so caring, even if he doesn’t always know how to adequately express it.

“It’s a matter of regaining control over my thought process, which is far from impossible. As I said, Harry, eventually I’ll cope.”

“You seem a little shaken up still.”

“It’s inevitable.”

“Well… anything I can do to help?”

Dale smiles. “Thank you for asking, Harry. If anything comes to mind, I’ll be sure to inform you. You’re a good friend.”

“I do my best. Here, why don’t you just siddown and talk about it some?”

Dale carefully settles on the edge of the mattress to Harry’s left, close but with enough space between them so as not to make his friend uncomfortable. “There was a difficult situation several years prior during an incident with only vague similarities to this one. I sustained an injury in the line of duty, but it was… largely the result of my own incompetence at the time, and someone close to me paid for that shortcoming with their life.”

“That’s tough, Coop. I’m sorry.”

“This is different, though. Audrey will be alright in a few days at the most.”

“But will you?”

Dale smiles, doing his best to make it convincing. “Hopefully.” It’s not just Harry he wants to reassure. He can’t be certain this will leave him alone anytime soon; Caroline’s death still drags him down at the neck sometimes with the weight of its memory.

Harry, to his great credit, isn’t fooled. “Coop, y’know this wasn’t your fault. Audrey’s had some problematic behavior anyway in the last few years or so. Sometimes teenagers just get themselves into trouble, who knows if you had anything to do with her getting kidnapped in the first place. If Jean Renault was after you anyway, it could’a just been a coincidence that Audrey was involved. How would he know it would bother you so much that he had her? He was probably just banking on you trying to rescue an innocent because you’re a cop.”

It makes so much sense the way Harry describes it. Dale has rarely encountered anyone with a rough voice capable of being so soothing and gentle before. Generally, most things about Harry could be classified as gentle, because he only toughens up when it’s necessary. Dale likes that, too. There’s a lot to like about Harry.

“I suppose my past experiences have been getting the better of me.”

“It happens to everyone sometimes.” Harry rests his forearms on his thighs and folds his hands together. “Coop, I meant what I said earlier, you’re the best lawman I’ve ever seen. You’d never get Audrey hurt on purpose, and if you knew ahead of time that something like this would happen I know you’d do everything you could to stop it. She’s gonna be okay, so you should get to be okay now, too.”

Dale smiles again, but more genuinely this time. “Thanks, Harry.”

Harry’s hands unfold and a palm comes to rest on Dale’s shoulder. Dale places one of his own hands over it to keep it there, feeling the warmth come through his pajama shirt. It occurs to him that he enjoys this, the notion of someone else looking out for him for a change. Normally, it’s his job to watch over others, to investigate and put a stop to goings-on that could harm innocent people. In this instance, though, Harry has arrived at precisely the right time to essentially save him from the torment of his own mind. Dale appreciates that more than he can say.

It occurs to him in this moment that Dale likes and appreciates these things about Harry because Harry, in a very short amount of time, is someone he’s accidentally started to love. Dale doesn’t lose his heart especially easily, but when it happens, it happens much too quickly for him to stop it from progressing. It was like this with Caroline, too. He loved her too quickly. He only had her for a brief moment of time before she died. Now, the threat isn’t so much death (Harry can most assuredly take care of himself) as the fact that Dale’s departure from Twin Peaks is inevitable once the case is concluded.

Harry doesn’t miss how Dale has abruptly begun to stare at him. “You okay, Coop?”

It’s whispered, like Harry’s throat has become dry. Dale suspects that’s exactly what happened, because it’s a condition currently afflicting him as well and he can only nod his affirmation that yes, he’s alright. It’s unclear which one of them is moving, but Dale becomes aware of the brim of Harry’s Stetson hat lightly skimming his hair shortly before he’s being kissed. Dale’s eyes close without his permission and he kisses back, mimicking the gentle pressure he’s being presented with. He failed to anticipate this, but he doesn’t mind. It’s pleasant and soothing and already endorphins are beginning to flood the receptors in his brain.

There’s no discussion of this new turn of events. Instead the involvement increases by gradual degrees as they both feel less and less hesitant, Dale’s fingers burrowing into Harry’s curls while Harry’s callused palm slides across his jaw to rest on the side of his neck. They should talk about this. Dale understands that it’s very, very important for them to have a discussion about what’s taking place. But they don’t. He’s not sure he could bear for it to stop, at least not yet. He fell in love with Twin Peaks without realizing that he was falling in love with Harry at the same time, and he doesn’t want to give either of them up.

Without knowing how assertive Harry normally is in these situations, Dale elects for a compromise and leans backwards onto the bed, pulling Harry along to rest on top of him. Harry complies without protest and shortly following both of those warm, slightly rough hands are on either side of his face. Dale slips his arms around Harry’s shoulders in response. He calculates - how much further will they get before one of them says something? Both of them, he notes, are already mostly hard just from this. However he strongly suspects Harry won’t have any ideas what to do besides kissing, which could mean nervousness and some mildly awkward moments.

Besides that, Dale is also slightly anxious over a rather unique problem he has. Because of his odd and inexplicable mental gifts, it regularly occurs that he can concurrently detect most or all of the sensations his sexual partners experience, and it tends to very quickly overwhelm him. This has earned for him, on multiple occasions, a reputation for being bad in bed… especially with other men. If they stay on their current course, Dale worries that he’ll disappoint Harry.

Ultimately, Harry is the one to come to his senses and slowly pull back just far enough to be able to speak. “Coop, what are we… uh, how far do you wanna take this?”

Dale gets right to the point without any preamble. “Harry, have you had sex with other men before?”

Harry turns red. “No.”

“That’s alright,” Dale tries to reassure him. “Up until a certain point it proceeds identically to having sex with women, and I’m confident I’ll be able to guide you through the rest of the process on reaching that point. Would you like that?”

Harry swallows, closes his eyes, and nods. “Yeah.”

“Alright. Harry, you don’t need to be embarrassed or afraid. If you discover at any point that you don’t enjoy it I won’t think any less of you for it.”

“Okay.”

Without further discussion, they mutually decide to disentangle and rearrange themselves to be in the center of the mattress instead of hanging half-on and half-off the side of it. Dale lies back and watches Harry’s fingers tremble undoing the buttons on his pajama shirt; there’s naturally still some apprehension present, but incipient threads of anticipation are beginning to show in his demeanor as well. The opened sides of the shirt are slid away and Dale’s undershirt is pushed up to reveal his bandages.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Dale informs him, anticipating the question.

Harry nods. “I’ll still be careful,” he promises.

Dale watches in silence and with rapt attention as Harry tosses his hat and jacket over the side of the bed before subsequently shedding his overshirt and the black tee beneath it. He’s a bit more muscular than Dale, which Dale expected, and in general more solid where Dale is thin and lithe. Harry moves and sits away completely in order to take off his boots and socks; Dale takes the opportunity to shuck his pajama top and undershirt into the small heap of clothing beside his bed. Harry returns to kneeling between his legs, beginning to look slightly uncertain again.

“What’s bothering you, Harry?”

He watches Harry take a deep breath. “So how does this… work?”

“In our cases, more specifically to this instance in _my_ case, the prostate gland serves other functions besides irritating and slightly invasive medical exams during a yearly physical. When stimulated it can be a source of intense pleasure.”

Harry looks surprised to learn this, but also seems to have some information snap into place for him at the same time. “Oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just heard once about… about this, now it makes a lot more sense. So it doesn’t hurt to do it this way?”

“If performed improperly it can, but I know what I’m doing. You won’t hurt me, Harry.”

“Okay. Good.” Harry seems very relieved.

Dale pulls Harry back down for more kisses and subsequently begins unfastening his belt for him. He can still detect significant amounts of nervousness, but Harry is also becoming slightly more emboldened as Dale finally tugs the belt free and drops it to the floor on his right. Brief kisses are run along his throat before Harry begins sucking a hickey onto his collarbone and he breathes inward sharply at the sensation. There was something, briefly, that he considered telling Harry to do, but by this point his erection is beginning to throb and it’s incredibly distracting.

Harry pulls back, sits up. His hands are still visibly shaking as he reaches for the waistband of Dale’s pajama bottoms, but at this stage it’s obviously more from excitement than apprehension and Dale’s very pleased with that change. He allows them to be removed and discarded, leaving only his boxers, and reaches for the side table to rummage through the top drawer. Unable to locate his target in less than two seconds as he was expecting, Dale becomes concerned and twists himself over to search more thoroughly, which almost completely defeats the purpose of him not getting up from the bed for this task. While collecting the condoms and lubricant from where he stashed them in his shaving kit, Dale notices Harry sitting back on his heels and looking far too amused about this.

“Are you enjoying my display of clumsiness, Harry?” Dale asks, slightly teasing.

“Y’know, usually you’re so perfect at everything, so it’s kinda nice seeing that sex is just as weird and awkward for you as it is for everyone else,” Harry admits, clearly trying not to laugh as he says it.

“I appreciate the insight. However, I can also assure you I’m far from perfect,” Dale informs him. “At whatever time is most convenient for you, you can take your pants off.”

Now, Harry does laugh, but he also complies and then seems mildly annoyed. “I kinda wish I was wearing better underpants for this.”

“I don’t mind,” Dale assures him. Just simple gray boxer-briefs, clearly having been owned for several years because they’re stretched out and loose. “They won’t be staying very long.”

The relative unattractiveness of Harry’s boxer-briefs is immediately forgotten as Dale hands over a condom and finally finishes stripping. He doesn’t delay in opening the lubricant and applying an amount that’s likely more than sufficient. Harry watches him, engrossed, through the entirety of this brief process, apparently still somewhat surprised but not in a negative way. Dale, in turn, observes Harry also concluding the undressing process and then nearly putting the condom on backwards on the first attempt. In all honestly, Harry’s remaining nervousness is endearing in a way.

“Just go slowly at first,” Dale requests, rolling onto his stomach because it’s a better angle and shifting his knees out to the sides.

It’s been a significant amount of time since Dale last experienced this, the gradual pressure of a cock inserting into him. Already the issue is beginning to arise as he mentally starts to perceive Harry’s pleasure. Dale tries to separate himself from it as much as he can. He doesn’t want to disappoint Harry. It’s imperative that he holds out for as long as possible, because Harry deserves nice things and good sex. Dale breathes slowly and deliberately, working to collect himself and get things under control. This task is not beyond him. If any time has come for him to master it, it’s now. He closes his eyes and focuses on the rhythm of his own breaths.

Harry stops immediately. “Coop am I hurting you?”

Dale lets out his current breath and smiles, not looking because the side of his face is pressed into the sheet. “No, Harry, I’m fine. Please continue.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. It’s alright.”

Harry grazes Dale’s prostate incidentally during the slow slide in, and Dale’s thought process begins to stutter. He works to regain control, to focus on not letting his problem progress. But the expectation of further sensation is distracting, and it would be all too easy to let Harry overwhelm him. Dale doesn’t want that. He desires, very strongly, to make this good for Harry.

A palm runs along his flank, raising goosebumps from his skin. Dale realizes he’s been fully impaled and Harry is holding still, acclimating for a moment and also looking to get his attention.

“Coop.”

“Yeah,” he breathes.

“You think too much.”

“Yes. Yes, I know.” Dale nods against the mattress, still not opening his eyes. “Sometimes it’s necessary.”

“Right now it’s not, I guarantee it.” Harry’s weight drapes down over his back, resting there briefly while a light kiss is pressed to his neck. Harry moves again, slipping almost fully out before pressing back in at a very slow pace. Dale twitches slightly as his prostate is brushed, causing Harry to pause and back up to deliberately rub on it again. “Is that it?”

“That’s it,” Dale affirms. He breathes too heavily, now. It’s getting the better of him already and he knows it - the sensitive spot under the head of Harry’s cock is what’s repeatedly moving across the gland inside him and the feeling of that is trying as hard as it can to overpower him. He has to do something before this goes too far and gets embarrassing for him. “Harry… Harry, you should slow down, I…” Dale’s brain is losing its ability to make use of words and he struggles for a second through the sensory input that’s rapidly approaching overload. “I might not be able to…”

Harry’s head shakes against the back of his neck, interrupting him. “I don’t care,” he mumbles as he thrusts in again. “I’m not gonna last that long either.”

They’re both more or less engulfed in a critical stage of gasping breaths writhing motions. Dale still attempts to hold out as much as he can, but it grows increasingly difficult as each second passes. He can’t maintain this. Harry’s fingers dig into his upper arms, Harry’s weight presses him into the mattress, Harry’s breathing saws across his ear, Harry’s cock pounds into him again and again and again. Harry becomes the only thing Dale can perceive, and he can feel that Harry’s nearly as close to the end as him.

It occurs to Dale in the last split second that he should warn Harry, but that idea leaves him as all of his muscles lock and he climaxes with a drawn-out groan. Almost immediately Harry follows suit, causing Dale to shudder and gasp repeatedly while feeling him come into the condom. His brain blanks itself and momentarily, blissfully, he finally stops thinking at all.

Dale’s thoughts return to him eventually and he notes Harry knotting the condom before tossing it vaguely in the direction of the trash. For his part, he can’t even consider moving yet - his muscles seem to have become the consistency and strength of Jell-O. He closes his eyes again and listens to Harry stagger away from the bed to do… something. It’s a little surprising when he’s carefully rolled onto his back, and he looks to see Harry trying to keep his mattress from absorbing too much of the sticky mess there with a towel. It’s very thoughtful and Dale can’t help smiling.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dale’s situational awareness is returning to him in degrees and he’s dismayed to discover that some got on the gauze over his abdomen. “I’ll have to put fresh ones on…”

Harry glances at him. “What, the bandages?”

“Yes.”

“I was gonna stick you in the shower anyway.”

“I already had a shower before you came over…”

“That’s okay, another one won’t hurt.”

Harry extricates him from the bed and they stumble into the bathroom together. Harry peels the bandages from his skin, damp with sweat in most places, and in short order they’re standing under the water together. Harry wraps around Dale from behind, arms over his chest and helping support some of his weight because his legs still shake. Dale leans back into his solid frame and soaks in the feeling of being held like this as hot water cascades down their bodies.

“Think you can stand up?” Harry murmurs against the back of his head after a few minutes.

“Yes, I believe so.”

What follows is Harry attentively and caringly soaping every inch of his skin as if he wasn’t in the shower for seventy five minutes earlier this evening, alternating between bar soap and a sudsy washcloth to achieve the desired effect. Dale holds still and allows himself to be looked after and cared for, sensing that this is important to Harry. It’s rare that he’s received such attention and he realizes, very startlingly, that his expectations of sexual encounters up to this point have been low. It’s likely due in large part to his low expectations of himself in these scenarios, owing to his unsolvable problem, but Dale has forgotten until now that sex can be much more involved and much more intimate than he’s used to.

His musings don’t go unnoticed. “You okay, Coop?”

“I’m fine, Harry. I wasn’t expecting this, that’s all.”

“Why not?”

Dale sighs slightly. “Very often people are… unimpressed with my performance.”

Harry makes a face, halfway between disbelief and concern. “How come?”

Dale considers - Harry’s aware of his dreams and his odd way of doing things, and will probably understand. He collects his words and explains his extrasensory perception, why it’s problematic for sex. “I can safely estimate that more than eighty percent of the time, the other person doesn’t appreciate it,” he finishes, wiping his wet hair out of his eyes.

Harry is still and quiet for a long moment, undoubtedly processing what he’s just been given. Eventually he shakes his head and gathers Dale into an embrace. “I thought you were perfect,” he whispers.

* * *

Rousing the next morning to his alarm, the first thing Dale becomes aware of is the rumbling snore under his ear becoming a discontented grumble. He opens his eyes in time to see Harry slapping an arm around randomly before finding the clock and silencing it.

“Good morning, Harry.”

Harry pulls Dale in closer, effectively trapping him. “Five more minutes.”

Dale chuckles. “As much as I’d like to indulge your request, I’m forced to point out that you very likely have to return home and prepare for the day unless you have a spare uniform in your truck outside.”

Harry groans. “Dammit, you’re right.”

Dale tries to sit up, but he’s immediately pulled back down so Harry can kiss him. Dale enables this procrastination for a few seconds before backing off, only to have Harry rather playfully cling to him and kiss him a second time.

Dale can’t help it - he giggles. “Harry.”

“Hm.” Another kiss.

“Harry, we have to go to work.”

“They can live without us for the morning.”

Now, Dale out-and-out laughs, nearly hysterically. “No they won’t, we have to go to work.” Harry conjures up an impressively pathetic expression in protest, and quite frankly it’s adorable. Dale finds himself smiling even wider. “We can resume this later at a more convenient time.”

“Fine.”

Finally they rise from the bed and dress themselves. Dale is still fixing his tie by the time Harry finishes, so they share one last kiss before Harry leaves to rush home and put on a fresh uniform. Dale proceeds along his routine by heading for the timber room to enjoy the hotel’s delicious coffee, pausing briefly to request that housekeeping change his bedding for an unspecified reason. As he’s preparing to sit, he becomes aware of Benjamin Horne’s eyes on him, clearly in a mood that indicates Dale’s morning will cease to be pleasant very quickly. He resigns himself to this fact and approaches.

“Agent Cooper, may I have a word?”

“You may,” Dale allows.

The chosen location is Ben’s office. “I received a complaint this morning from a guest.”

Ah, Dale can already see where this is going. “I can safely assume this complaint had something to do with me.”

“This guest checked out this morning because he was very unsatisfied with the fact that, so he claimed, he could hear two _men_ having sex in the room beside his. As room 313 is empty, I can only assume this has something to do with you.”

Dale maintains a carefully neutral expression and demeanor. “Mr. Horne, ignoring the fact that any activities I undertake in my spare time are far from being any of your business, I find it hard to believe that you’ve been complaint-free until this point, given the recent stay of the Icelanders on the same floor I currently occupy.”

Ben seems very displeased to hear that, but at least he doesn’t try to argue with it. He bites down on his cigar and lights it, then thankfully changes the subject. “How long until I can see Audrey?”

“As soon as I’ve finished having breakfast, I’ll bring you to her,” Dale promises, then promptly leaves Ben’s office.

Drinking his coffee after placing his food order, Dale enables himself a moment of quiet reflection over the night Harry spent with him. Will it affect their dynamic at work? What will happen after the investigation ends? Dale silently curses himself for not considering the implications before allowing this to happen. From a different perspective, he’s relieved and satisfied that he wasn’t disappointing for Harry like he’d feared. Waking up this morning the way they did, irritating alarm clocks notwithstanding, was pleasant and soothing for him. Even left to deal with future consequences, especially when he ultimately leaves Twin Peaks, Dale finds that he doesn’t regret it. He smiles into his coffee mug before the next sip.

**Author's Note:**

> Let it be known that I rarely write porn and this is the only time I've done it for these two, so please be forgiving.
> 
> All my Twin Peaks fics can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=127943&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=Aaron_The_8th_Demon).
> 
> Comments are welcomed and encouraged if you have them :)


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